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by vocalfew



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocalfew/pseuds/vocalfew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>my treehouse is on f i r e<br/>and for some r e a s o n<br/>i smell g a s on my h a n d s <br/>this is not what i had p l a n n e d<br/>thisisnotwhatihadplanned</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

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They stared on.

 

Still they stared on while their lips remained chapped.

 

They stared on as the nearly empty can of gasoline slipped from their fingers.

 

They stared on.

 

They stared on as if there was nothing wrong with the house in the tree that his father built.

 

There wasn't.

 

This was fine.

 

They stared on even as the screams rang out from behind the burning, wooden walls.

 

They watched him sweat profusely, and they watched him beg, tug, and pull at the boards that were not yet enveloped in angry reds and oranges.

 

He could try to climb out, but either way,

 

_~~Itwouldbefunnytowatchhimfalltohisdeath.~~ _

 

This was okay.

 

This was fine.

 

He wasn't hurt, just tired.

 

He was tired and

 

Maybe this wasn't okay.

 

But now the treehouse was on fire, and the snow began to fall faster, and the tree began to droop.

 

They almost disappeared for a moment.

 

This was okay.

 

There were no more screams,

 

just pretty colours.

 

Ash fluttered down into the snow, tiny black speckles against pure, frozen ground.

 

This was okay.

 

Smoke billowed higher, and his parents ran out of the house, clutching them by the shoulders.

 

The father watched his work fall to ashes,

 

The mother sobbed into their shoulder.

 

She shook them. Hard. Not enough to break them apart, but hard.

 

She shook them as hard as she could, begging to know why he would hurt anyone like he is.

 

Begging to know why he made no face of remorse. No sign of agony or regret.

 

They stared on.


End file.
